


Sleepless Night

by D4MIANWAYNE



Series: Madeline Cobblepot [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Dadwald, Oswald Cobblepot is a Good Dad, but i got kinda emotional writing it near the end, enjoy :), i started out with fluff in mind then just, its not that bad, made it angsty, madeline cobblepot deserves the world and i would DIE for her, one swear word but the whole word isnt completely said, youre welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29788503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D4MIANWAYNE/pseuds/D4MIANWAYNE
Summary: Madeline has trouble sleeping like she so often does, so she goes to see her father. They have a discussion.
Series: Madeline Cobblepot [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2155797
Kudos: 5





	Sleepless Night

Madeline carefully made her way down the large staircase, following the sound of her father’s voice. She stepped off the last step, planting her feet silently on the wooden floor. It went quiet. Then a new voice started stammering, barely getting anything out before Oswald interrupted.

“I don't have time for this. Leave. Now. We’ll discuss this at a different time.”

Madeline couldn’t see him, but she could tell the man Oswald was speaking to was immediately on his way out, most likely on the receiving end of one of her father’s signature looks.

She stood in the hallway, waiting for an opportunity to go into the dining room, listening patiently. Oswald asked for a drink, and she could hear a woman’s steps fading farther from him.

Now was her time.

She moved into the doorway, putting her hands behind her back. 

Oswald sat at the large dining table alone, his bad foot propped up on a chair beside him, studying a paper that lay on the table.

She stared across the room at him, the only sound coming from lit candles crackling all around the room, casting an orange glow on both of them, making the room warmer than the rest of the manor. It was cozy. Calm. The opposite of any conversation that had ever gone down in this room.

She shifted her weight, debating on whether or not to bother him. He looked stressed, but focused. His eyebrows were knit together and his lips were moving as he whispered to himself. With a frustrated sigh he sat up, slamming his hand on the table. 

“Oh, this is utter bullsh—” Oswald looked up, gasping softly and pulling his foot off the chair, standing up and leaning against the table for support, looking at the girl standing in the dining room entrance. “Madeline, my dear! Come in!”

She hesitated, swaying softly before stepping forward. “Good morning, Mister Cobblepot.”

“Good morning?” He laughed, pulling his sleeve up and looking at his watch. “Time hasn’t gotten that far away from me, has it?” 

“It’s one thirty three in the morning. Good morning,” Madeline said simply, stepping all the way into the room. 

Oswald sighed, nodding slowly and dropping his wrist back down to the table. “I guess I can’t argue with that logic, can I?” he added a small smile, gesturing to a chair across from him. “Please, dear. Sit.”

Madeline looked down to one of the elegant chairs, grabbing it by the back and pulling it away from the table, gently sitting down, nervously placing her hands in her lap. They looked at each other in a steady silence before Madeline broke it. Looking at the papers laid out on the table in front of Oswald, she asked. “What are you working on?”

Oswald’s eyes flicked down to the pages, pointedly setting his hand out as the woman from a moment ago returned, handing him a glass of wine. He took a sip, shaking his head as he set the glass down. “Nothing for you to be concerned about, dear.” He dismissed the woman with a quiet ‘thank you’ and a wave of his hand, setting his palms down on the arms of the chair, looking back at Madeline. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Nothing for you to be concerned about, Mister Cobblepot.” Madeline smiled to herself at the mimicking she made of her father.

Oswald let out a soft chuckle, and with a shake of his head he shifted around in his chair, resting his hands on his knee. “That’s not how this works.”

“Sure it is.” she continued to smile. 

“It’s not, and you know that. What are you doing up? You should be sleeping.”

Madeline sighed loudly, slouching her shoulders and leaning back into the seat, stretching her legs out in front of her, anxiously starting to tap her feet together. 

He wouldn’t be upset at something she couldn’t control.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Oswald nodded slowly, reaching for his glass. “That’s been a problem for you as of late, hasn’t it?” 

Maddie nodded, watching him sip carefully from his wine.

“Alright,” he started, gathering all the papers laid out and stacking them together, neatly setting the small pile on the table. He slowly rose from his seat, stretching his leg out before gripping for his cane. “Follow me.”

He led Madeline out of the dining room, the two of them making their way across the manor and to the large living room. Once there, he gestured for her to take a seat on the large couch. She sat down, looking up at Oswald as he grabbed a coaster from a pile of them, placing his wine glass down. He stared off in concentration for a moment before sighing quietly, looking down at Madeline again and smiling.

“How about you pick something out?” He asked, leaning his cane against the side of the couch as he sat down next to her, gesturing to the large TV in front of them with the remote, then handing it over. Maddie accepted it, carefully running her thumb over the buttons as she looked down at it. Oswald watched her patiently, his smile wavering before quickly coming back. “Do you know how to use it?” He asked.

Madeline shook her head, going to hand it back to Oswald. He stopped her, pushing the remote away and shaking his head. 

“It’s not that hard. You can do it, dear.” He smiled. “I’ll teach you.” Carefully, he adjusted her grip on the remote, never really expecting to teach someone how to use a TV remote. Then, continuing his smile, he pointed to the power button. “Hold it down,” he instructed, sitting back on the couch.

She did as told, pointing the remote forward and holding down the red power button. Slowly the large screen lit up the room and Oswald grinned, clapping his hands quietly. “Good job.”

She set the remote down in her lap and her cheeks started to heat up, embarrassment from not knowing how to do something as simple as that flooding her emotions.

Oswald’s hand planted on her shoulder and carefully he pulled her close to him, grabbing the remote and setting it by his side. “Hey, hey. You’re perfectly fine, Madeline. No one’s going to laugh at you for this. No one is going to even know. I’m not expecting you to know everything about things you’ve never worked with before. You know that, right?”

She sucked in a breath, biting down on her lip as she buried her face in Oswald’s shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut. “I feel like I should know how to turn on a television. That was easy.”

Oswald shook his head, gently wrapping an arm around her. “So what?” He asked simply, looking down at her. “That doesn’t mean anything. You’ve never used a remote before. No one is expecting you to know how to use it, I promise. You’re going to have to learn things, Madeline. That’s how life works. I know that you know that. And I’m going to teach you whatever you want to know. Do you understand that?”

He tucked his daughter’s hair back behind her ear as she pulled away from him, her cheeks splotched with red and her eyelashes damp. “I understand, Mister Cobblepot,” she whispered, clearing her throat as she wiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry.” she added, pulling away completely and leaning back into the couch, staring forward blankly. 

Oswald frowned, watching her. He knew her. She was his daughter. Adopted? Yes. But nevertheless, his daughter. And with everything he did, he wanted Madeline to feel comfortable, safe, and sheltered in his home. 

Growing up on the streets, Madeline was always the one that had been betrayed, lied, and cheated to. It’s what people had to do to survive. No one ever apologized to her. It was always her handing out unnecessary apologies. The effects that had on her, with the mix of adults abandoning her throughout her life, were weighing down on her. Hard. 

It took months for Oswald to gain her trust, and even then he had his own moments of doubt on if she trusted him to the extent he believed she did. Especially in a moment like this. 

Her face was void of emotion, staring at the wall beneath the television, blinking, not making a word. 

Oswald knew how it felt. Living in Gotham, being the person he was, he had been betrayed and lied to dozens of times. But even then, he didn’t know what exactly Madeline had experienced. She told him stories of growing up alone on the streets of Gotham. A vile amount of adults promising to buy her a dinner from a restaurant nearby just to never return. 

He would never know what that felt like. And for her to go through that, at such a young age, made Oswald mad. 

And it made him protective. 

He wanted to do whatever he could to show Madeline that he could trust her. That he wouldn’t hurt or betray her. So he kept her as safe as he could. That’s what he prioritized. 

His daughter.

His Madeline.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Maddie. You know that, right?”

Maddie continued to stare at the wall, fidgeting her fingers together in her lap. “No.”

“What do you think you have to apologize for?”

“Underestimating myself.” She looked at him, her tucked away hair slipping out and curtaining over half of her face. The orange glow of the lights made a single tear running down her opposite cheek glisten, her breathing shaky. “You don’t accept that.”

“I don’t—“ He paused, sighing and looking down at the couch. “Madeline. That isn’t true. Not when it comes to you.”

She stayed quiet, looking away as he looked to her, her fingers still nervously tapping themselves. “It isn’t?” she asked after a minute

“It isn’t.” He confirmed, moving forward and pulling Madeline close to him again, resting his head on top of hers. “The only thing I want from you is to do the best that you can do, no matter what you’re doing. That’s it.”

Gently she brought her hands up, cupping them around Oswald’s arm, leaning into him again. “Thank you,” she whispered, tilting her head so she could look up at him, forcing Oswald to have to pull back. “For all that you’ve done for me, Mister Cobblepot.”

“And what all have I done for you, dear?” He asked with a smile. He knew the answer. He had given her a home, food, and warm clothes. He had—

“You saved me.”


End file.
